


bird in a gilded cage

by teapotpourri



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Don't let that fool you it's ridiculous, M/M, Some very light smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teapotpourri/pseuds/teapotpourri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the fuck happened?” Liam’s eyes were nervously searching the room until Niall crawled out from under the table as well.<br/>“This bloke just turned up! I assume it’s the guy’s son, Zayn hit him in the head, think he’s mostly unconscious,” Liam gasped.<br/>“Oh my god! Zayn just hit him?” Louis said quavering.<br/>“That’s some real ninja shit right there!” - Niall Horan, everyone.<br/>Louis closed his eyes and tried to think for a second. His mind was running wild -they were in deep shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or the one where Louis and his friends accidentally kidnap Richard Styles’ son, Zayn is a ninja and Louis wishes he had met Harry under other circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bird in a gilded cage

**Author's Note:**

> This is ridiculous because not only the boys are terrible criminals in my fic but also I would be. In fact, I don't condone breaking in or kidnapping or anything nor do I actually know anything about how to.  
> I borrowed some ideas from the German movie "Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei" or in English "The Edukators". But if you're familiar with it, don't expect this fic to be anything like it because I would be 1) a bit pretentious to get political about multimillionaires seeing as the boys irl very much are so themselves 2) I totally turned this into a sort of lovestory eheh.
> 
> This is a work of pure fiction. I do not own One Direction or claim to know anything about them. 
> 
> Fair warning: I can only write innocent!Liam, sorry.

****

 

 

Prologue

 

The day that Louis stood in Liam and Zayn’s doorway was a Thursday.

It had been almost a year since he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let it come to this.

But here he was anyway, ringing their doorbell, he sighed dolefully and waited. They were his two best friends in the whole world and living with them would be fun, maybe. If only Louis didn’t feel like such a burden, he slapped himself on the cheek, trying to stop his thoughts, there was no point anyway. Mid-slap the door opened and well, Zayn only needed seconds to realise what was going on.

“Oh shit, Louis,” was all he said before tugging him into a hug, his chin crashing onto Louis’ shoulder whilst he couldn’t fully wrap his arms around him and his backpack.

Louis bit his lip when Zayn took a step back and looked him closely in the eyes, “Are you alright, mate?”

He knew he’d fail to smile, so he just nodded, “Yeah, and thanks. Mind if I stay a few nights?” Both he and Zayn knew that ‘a few nights’ would probably mean at least a ‘few months.’

“Of course, always. You know that.”

 

It was easy like that. Louis could count on them, no matter what. The only problem was that it was always him having to rely on them. Only two months ago Zayn had finally dared to move out of Louis’ and his shared flat in order to move in with Liam. They deserved their own place after all those years;  first being friends, pining idiots and then inevitably boyfriends. But instead Louis managed to intrude once again, with his whole life packed into one big sailor’s kitbag. Working 35 hours a week at the café still didn’t cut it for Louis to pay all his expenses anymore, especially not since the 2nd of March 2013, losing his flat had only been the logical consequence.

 

“This arsehole ruined my whole bloody life. Not that it was even worth destroying in the first place.” Louis had already had three glasses of wine, so what? Liam’s eyebrow raise didn’t slip past him though.

“I know daddy Li. It’s my fault I didn’t have fucking car insurance. Small collision, tons of money. And all that just because that bastard thought it was necessary to stop when the lights had just turned yellow. Yellow, not red. Yellow, for Christ’s sake!”

Zayn opened his mouth, but what would he even have to say? He didn’t even have a car, let alone a driving license. “Look, this man decided to drive the most expensive car around. And now I’m paying for his car instead of my rent? Something is seriously fucked up with that.” No one could argue with that, so Zayn just nodded and continued to slurp his soup while Liam put his bowl down and reached over to cover Louis’ hand with his.

“I know, Lou. I mean yes, you didn’t pay insurance or were late on paying it or whatever but it can’t be right that you work your arse off for some pretentious car. The part where I disagree is where you say your life is not even worth destroying. And it’s not destroyed now either. You can’t pay your rent any more, okay that’s a problem but not a problem that you cannot fix. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.”

He took Louis’ hand in his now for real and Louis looked up into his eyes, those soft brown eyes that Louis is quite convinced could bring world peace. He nodded sincerely, “I know, Liam. I love you both so much. I just really hate him.”

 

Truth is, Louis was frustrated as hell. After being thrown out of his flat and moving onto Zayn and Liam’s sofa he had tried to get another job: at a library, at a clothing store, even at a stupid cycle shop but no luck. A few weeks later he dragged his two best friends to Niall’s place. If you wanted to get drunk without paying a penny, Niall’s was the place to be. The Irish lad worked with Liam at a security company, that plus Louis’ frustration, plus the overflow of alcoholic beverages sparked the most brilliant idea they’d ever had – well, that’s what their drunken minds were convinced of.

“So you know how they drive around in these limos where you can’t even properly see through the windows? Sipping champagne in the back seat, smoking cigars and letting someone suck their dicks on their way home to their wives? That’s what we pay fucking taxes for – while they sip Martinis on some fucking island and hide their money while simultaneously letting it fly around them like fucking confetti!”

“Just last week we”, Niall pointed at Liam and himself, “we had to install this security system at this fucking villa. Proper chandelier, at least 10 bedrooms, swimming pool in the winter garden and even some statue of some philosopher or dictator, I don’t even know. You’d expect to get a good tip, right? Nah man, nothing.” Niall opened another can of beer.

“How can society just accept this? You, me, you two, practically all my friends and their friend’s friends have student loans to pay off once we get a full time job. We all already work besides going to uni and God only knows if we even get a full time job when we finish and even if we do, I question that it pays enough so that someday I’ll drive anything other than a rusty second hand car.” Zayn sighed, “I always said that communism wasn’t really a bad idea, it just never worked because it only needs one selfish arsehole and everything is ruined. Humans are awful!”

 

So far this evening had turned out to be quite a depressing event; Niall had welcomed them with open arms, radiating joy when he dragged them inside, planting one after the other on his worn-out sofa and announcing that they should “turn that frown upside down”. Nothing a few beers couldn’t fix, that was his philosophy. But now even Niall had to admit that some things couldn’t just be laughed away: “Sometimes, I wonder if that arsehole you work yourself into the ground for, knows what this means for you, Louis. I bet if we went by his house today, he would have at least 2 new Jags in his garage.” Liam let his finger run round the rim of his pint glass and mumbled, “Or Mercedes or Porsches.”

“That’s just not fair. I literally give him money so he gets a third car – a fucking toy for himself to play with when his wife doesn’t want him anymore or what?”

They all fell silent for a moment - it was true.

“Yeah right”, Zayn clapped in his hands and placed his bottle on the coffee table, “I’m sick of this. We can’t just sit here, get drunk off our arses and complain to ourselves. It’s this bloke – what was his name, Lou?”

“Styles, Richard Styles. Even his name sounds like he gets a beautician to paint his dick gold once a month.”

Zayn snorted at that but continued – “Yes, that Mr Richard fucking Styles should be the one we’re complaining to.”

“Do you really think this would change anything though? He would fucking laugh at us – or even worse, not even let us into his empire.” Liam spread his arms wide.

“Nah, you’re right, Payno. He would never let us in.” Niall paused, putting his beer on the coffee table, “But what if we didn’t need to be let in?”

“You want to break into his house?” Louis deadpanned. A hint of horror crossed Liam’s face, bless him.

“Yeah why the hell not? I mean, not to steal anything. I don’t want his money. Or well, at least not like that. I just want to leave… like you know – a message.”

 

1

 

Louis couldn’t believe they were doing this. They may or may not have had to talk Liam into coming with for about half an hour. In the end he had actually agreed and rumbled something about safety and how they’d do it without him anyways. So now they were sitting in Liam’s old Volkswagen in front of the villa. Two floors of white massive stone, neatly put in between perfectly shaped bushes and half a football field of punctiliously cut grass. It was only 10 pm and all the lights inside the house were out, the curtains on the first floor drawn, only the lights that lit the driveway behind the big gates were glowing in the dark.

“Do you see any cars up the driveway, Zayn?” Louis whispered, pressing himself next to him in the passenger seat to get a better look at the house.

“Nah man, but wouldn’t he put them in that big ass garage anyway?” Zayn pointed to a small building next to the villa. It could easily pass as a pool house if there weren’t those massive gates.

“Look, his mailbox is overflowing, that guy hasn’t been home for days,” Niall pointed out.

“Niall, were you a detective in your former life?” Sometimes Louis wondered if Niall either watched too much telly or just couldn’t be bothered to distinguish between reality and fiction. “No, but laugh with me. I’m pretty sure this is the house Aiden was at just two days ago. He was ordered there to check the alarm system since the owner was on some business trip or something. Guess, he’s not back yet.” He shrugged and threw a dark blue beanie over his head, looking in the driving mirror in order to hide the last strands of his blonde hair.

“Are you sure this is the same house?” Liam asked, always the careful one.

“One hundred percent. He said that it had this marble statue of a naked woman in the front yard. And look-!” Indeed, there was a statue of a naked woman.

“Okay, alright. How do we do this? This all seems like high-security standard. Payno, any suggestions?” Louis threw a black beanie towards Liam who caught it easily. Letting his eyes roam the street thoughtfully, Liam jumped out of the van and motioned for the others to follow him. “We gotta climb the fence there, on the side where the bushes are. Assuming he uses one of the newest systems he should have the alarm system by the front door, so I suggest we look for a tipped window somewhere near there first but never step into the light of the driveway lads, okay?”

 

Not even five minutes later they were in. “Don’t use the flashlights, that’s even more suspicious. Just switch on one of the lights.” Liam instructed and considering that he needed convincing to even come along, he had this whole operation fully in his hands. They switched on the lights and were welcomed by white walls and even more white walls. It smelled like air freshener and fabric softener, the tiled floor sterile and clean and the only sign that someone actually lived there from time to time were the half occupied key hooks - Mercedes, Ferrari, Porsche.

“So what do we do?” Niall asked excitingly clapping in his hands. Louis looked around and padded further into the house. “Maybe, if we found like a little dirt on him, we could like you know – convince him to…”

“You do realize this is not actually an episode of Suits, right Louis?” Zayn sniggered. Louis rolled his eyes. “Alright, as if you would mind going all secret agent or something on this, geek.” “I mean that this is actual real life and we won’t pop open a drawer and find something – just like that.”

Zayn was right. If Mr Styles had anything to hide, he most probably wouldn’t do it in his living room, even one as big as this. There were three irritatingly white leather sofas and the biggest telly Louis had ever seen.

“Wanna play some Call of Duty?” He picked up the game and smirked.

“Louis, no time to fuck around now.” The fact that Louis was actually the oldest out of all of them was something people continuously were astonished by. Liam though had grown accustomed to it, having struggled with Louis’ shenanigans a whole lot more than he did nowadays.

“But it could be totally terrifying to read that someone cracked your high score and signed off as Your Pain in the Arse.”

“Maybe to you. Do you really think this is Richie Rich’s game though? He probably has a teenage son or something.” Louis let his arm sink and put the game back on the rack next to the telly.

“Yeah, that’s true I guess.”

“We should move the furniture around and then spray Yours sincerely, the monsters you created on the wall, after all, I didn’t bring my tools for nothing, right?” Zayn shook the two spray cans he took with him.

“That’s brilliant, Z! Okay, you two take the living room, Nialler and I will see what else we can move around.”

 

The house was huge, so huge that they decided only to move stuff around on the ground floor. “But be quick!” According to Liam they shouldn’t be in the house for longer than 20-25 minutes. They moved all the stuff from an antique desk in the library and flipped it upside down, they took dozens of tattered and unused books off the shelves and built up piles taller than Louis himself. They spontaneously threw the sun loungers into the pool, spread the towels all over the floor after they’d carried the chairs from the kitchen into the pantry. Louis was just about to clap his hands when he heard a croaky call from the hall.

“DAD?”

Louis froze and looked on as Niall’s eyes widened in horror. The voice didn’t sound like some little kid, it was deep and rough.

“DAD?” the voice continued, now raucous and uncertain, “Dad? Are you home?”

Louis was sure his heart was jumping double dutch.

“Shit fucking, fuck,” he muttered, “What do we do now?” But Niall was frozen and most probably not even breathing anymore at this point.

“Dad? Are you fucking kidding me? Thought you were in Vegas or some…”

Then there was a bang.

And then dead silence.

 

Louis had actually crawled under the table in the kitchen. “Did Zayn kill him?” Niall mumbled beside him. Louis could feel how Niall seemed to concentrate on his breathing pattern to keep his claustrophobia in check. With a slow panic rising in his own chest, Louis tried to adapt his breathing to Niall’s.

Maybe they sat under the table for 3 hours, simply focussing on their breathing, maybe it was only seconds until Liam came running through the kitchen door, shouting in a hushed tone: “Where the hell are you?” Only then did Louis dare to come out of hiding.

“What the fuck happened?” Liam’s eyes were nervously searching the room until Niall crawled out from under the table as well.

“This bloke just turned up! I assume it’s the guy’s son, Zayn hit him in the head, think he’s mostly unconscious,” Liam gasped.

“Oh my god! Zayn just hit him?” Louis said quavering.

“That’s some real ninja shit right there!” - Niall Horan, everyone.

Louis closed his eyes and tried to think for a second. His mind was running wild -they were in deep shit.

+

 

They didn’t end up in jail; or at least not yet.

The reasoning behind kidnapping the son of Richard Styles was still a bit fuzzy in Louis’ mind. Panic, it must have been panic when they blindfolded the curly, lanky guy with the headscarf or whatever it was that the boy was wearing. Louis must admit, Zayn really was sort of a ninja. Most importantly though, they all needed to be ninjas right now when they didn’t want to end up in prison after all.

“We just grab him and drive, alright?”

Louis wasn’t sure whether he was the one who said it or someone else. He just blindly grabbed the boy by his arm while Liam took the other and they carried him out the front door, hoping that no one would see them or at least assume the boy was too drunk to walk, he looked close enough to being legal at least.

Once they hit the road, everyone in the car fell silent. Louis studied the boy’s features, he was sort of pretty; long, luscious curls fell down his forehead and his lips shimmered in the light of bypassing cars. A pair of ripped black skinny jeans, worn out boots and a lazily loose leather jacket thrown over a Rolling Stones tee with more holes than Louis’ favourite United jersey - Richard Styles’ son was nothing like Louis had expected him to be. He definitely did not have a preppy face, too much wax in his hair or even an expensive watch to accompany his name. Was he really was Styles’ son?

Niall was thinking along the same lines as Louis and pulled out the boy’s phone and ID out of his jeans pocket: “Harry Styles, born 1st of February 1994.”

“Great, at least he’s legal,” Louis grumbled as he fastened his seatbelt.

“Eh Louis, you know we didn’t kidnap him to be your sex slave right?” Niall snorted with laughter. Always so funny, the little Irish chap.

“Hilarious, Nialler. But we should probably tie him up nonetheless. He could snap awake any minute, I don’t think Zayn’s ninja skills are that good.”

Zayn hesitated for second before he reached under his seat. “Don’t say a fucking word about this, Louis,” he warned before he fished a pair of fuzzy handcuffs from under the seat and clicked them around the boy’s wrists.

“Because that’s private, bro,” Louis imitated Zayn’s voice. Niall chuckled, of course he did and Liam continued to stare at the road.

“We’re just gonna head to my grandparents’ cottage for now”, he said before he turned onto some god-forsaken bumpy road towards the countryside.

 

+

 

Louis was pretty sure that Harry had been conscious for a while before they actually arrived at the cottage, in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t that long, so he was still high on adrenaline and couldn’t really start thinking about what the hell he was doing and how and why. Also he wouldn’t have to question why the other boys weren’t freaking out either, well maybe apart from Liam.

“You stay with him,” Louis instructed Niall and climbed out of the van.

Liam reached for the emergency key of the cottage above the door. Louis rose his eyebrows, Liam’s grandparents weren’t very original with that idea.

“Got nothing to steal anyways. Well, apart from that deer head above the bed,” Zayn remarked as if he could read Louis’ thoughts.

“Oh, so you’ve been here on a romantic getaway! I see, I see,” Louis huffed out sarcastically.

“Only place on earth your lovely roommate doesn’t know so he can’t climb into your bed after you just had sex with your boyfriend,” Zayn hinted.

“That only ever happened once! I was so drunk. Come on, you’re being unfair!” Louis exclaimed.

“Alright. This is it!” Liam pushed the door open and the three of them stepped in. It was actually kind of cosy; old-fashioned patterned wallpaper, embroidered curtains, some kitschy landscape paintings and everything was made from wood. It smelled like honey, candle wax with a hint of moth powder.

Liam might have been the one sweating all the way to the cottage and trembling like a leaf when he turned the key in the lock, but as soon as he swung open that door, he was back in control. First, he lead Harry into the cottage, un-cuffing and then tying him to the chair in the only bedroom.  Louis watched Harry curiously while Liam went to the kitchen to get some water. Surprisingly, Harry didn’t seem to be freaking out; his breathing pattern seemed oddly calm, Louis noticed, watching how his broad chest heaved slowly. The two tattooed wings peeking out from under his shirt, where his collarbones were just so slightly exposed, also may have caught his attention before his eyes travelled further down his body. The ropes were digging into the boy’s wrist, leaving small red marks. Louis blinked and shook his head. He was slowly but surely panicking. There was a boy sitting on the chair. Fucking blindfolded and tied up. What the fuck have you done?

“Sorry?” Louis whispered, confused over whether Harry just asked him that or if it was his mind running in circles.

“SORRY?!” Harry exclaimed, astonished and yet so angry. “Is this a joke to you?”

“I..-“ The words got stuck in Louis’ throat.

“You... what?” Harry laughed bitterly. “Come on, Louis.”

Louis startled. Fuck. Fuck! . “Oh, fuck!” How the hell did Harry know his name?

“That’s more like it! You’re all a bunch of seriously professional kidnappers,” Harry huffed out, “Can I please just go now?”

Louis, panic-stricken, exited the room as quickly as he could.

 

+

 

“So what’s the plan?” Zayn twisted his ring.

“Don’t think anyone actually has a plan,” Niall wasn’t smiling for once.

They were sitting around the tiny dining table in the main room, drinking tea to calm their nerves. That was Louis’ idea obviously, just as Niall’s life philosophy was mostly based on pints and smiles, Louis’ first go-to were teabags and coco pops.

“Sooner or later they’ll come looking for him,” Liam noted, clutching at his own mug.

“So what are our options?” Louis addressed no one in particular and nervously bit down on his fingernail.

“Well, we could take him back but that would mean that we could be arrested,” Liam rubbed his eyes.

“Can’t you call this guy, Liam? This private detective?” Louis leant forwards, “We could find some dirt on the Styles kid and blackmail him.”

“And what am I going to say to him? Can you help me out, mate? I just need some info to blackmail this kid. Seriously, Lou, we’re not really friends and he’d go running to the police, he only does, like, marriage infidelity and family stuff as far as I know,” Liam shook his head.

“Then we have to find something,” Louis had been right all along, Zayn totally wanted this whole undercover agent thing - no time for gloating now.

“Just look at him! He’s such a hipster, Zayn. What should we find? He’s probably a vegan, bet he’s only concerned about his cat not getting any food right now,” Louis rolled his eyes, “and he fucking knows my name. Might as well take that blindfold off.”

They were at a dead end.

Eventually, they decide that Liam and Zayn should drive back into town and get some clothes and food from their flat whilst the other two should try to talk to Harry. “He hates me already. Can’t you do that alone, Niall?” Niall just laughed, “pretty sure he hates us all.” How could he still laugh about this? But Louis knew that it was not his outright bright laughter, it was nervous and his cheeks were flushing.

 

“You here to kill me now?” Harry fired a glare.

“I wish we were,” Louis untied the stupid headband-scarf-bandana-thingy that held Harry’s curls in place. “But thinking about it, now that you can see us, we might have to in the end.”

“Okay, Lewis. Don’t wanna scare him away now, do we?” Niall, such an angel.

“Not like I could actually go, is it?” Harry grumbled.

“Right, you better thank Liam and Zayn later that they use fuzzy handcuffs and not normal ones,” Louis tried to joke and Harry actually snorted. Alright, this wasn’t  so bad was it? The kidnapped laughing at the kidnappers jokes. The situation was too bizarre and probably got even more complicated when Louis first looked Harry into his bottle green eyes. His vivid but yet muted green eyes with a few flecks of blue in the iris. He felt a little lost, not that he wasn’t lost before. But Louis got a way of picking them, didn’t he?

“So we’ve come to the conclusion that we were being incredibly stupid kidnapping you,” he tentatively sat down on the chair opposite. To his surprise Harry didn’t throw another sarcastic comment at him, instead he just looked right at him, blinking, confused.

“Maybe we should tell you our story from the beginning,” Niall began, “it’s kind of crazy how we’re sat here in this cottage with you freaking tied up to a chair. This really wasn’t the plan, you must understand that this was all an act of pure desperation and panic.”

“I do understand that. Getting caught red-handed robbing my dad’s home isn’t something you just get away with without any consequences,” Harry noted with with tight lips.

“Yeah mate, we weren’t actually stealing anything, is the thing,” Niall now sat down as well.

“Wh-what?” Harry’s confused frown grew deeper.

“Go on Louis, tell him your story, bro,” Niall encouragingly patted Louis’ thigh.

“Well so it was last year in spring,” Louis took a deep breath, “I was driving down to Tescos after uni and you know that crossroad at Winfield Street? Well, I was behind this super expensive Mercedes and the light just turned yellow and then it happened - I crashed into the car in front of me. Maybe my reaction sucked arse, in the end it doesn’t really matter since I didn’t have car insurance because I was late on paying, I always was. No one was hurt, but there were some distinctive scratches on the other car and my car was in a rather miserable condition.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Harry asked slowly.

“The other car owner was your dad. Richard Styles. I’ve been trying to pay for the damage on his car for months and months now but I’m still a student who works 3 hours a day at a coffee shop. Couple of weeks ago I got thrown out of my flat because I couldn’t pay the rent anymore,” Louis wiped his fringe out of his eyes, “I tried to find a second job and was willing to put my studies on hold for a while but not even the stupid bike shop wanted me.”

Louis paused and closed his eyes for a minute, “when we broke into your dad’s house it was to leave a sign. How many cars does he have anyway?”

“Three,” Harry whispered, clearly uncomfortable. Well, being tied to a chair wasn’t something Louis would consider comfortable to begin with, but earlier Harry seemed more relaxed, at least a little bit.

“Right, three cars, meanwhile I’ve been working my arse off so he can afford another little toy when I finally manage to pay him back fully. We broke in to leave a message,” Louis ran a hand down his cheek where his stubble was itching, “we just rearranged some furniture and Zayn let out his artsy side on the living room wall. You weren’t supposed to turn up, I am really incredibly sorry,” the sincerity in Louis’ look made Harry shift a little on his chair, struggling with what to believe. Niall added, “we really are, all of us. We acted without thinking the moment you came through that door.” The frown on Harry’s face had lessened a little bit, as if he had made up his mind, “well, I’m sorry for having a shit father,” he shrugged, “this isn’t surprising at all to be honest and if I didn’t know him better I would say that he doesn’t know about your situation, Louis. Pretty sure he does though. So I’m sorry too.”

“Honestly, Harry. I can call you Harry, yeah?” Louis asked hesitantly.

Harry nodded, “’f course.”

“Harry, please don’t apologise on behalf of your father; we’re in a bit of a strait here,” Louis gestured around the room as if that could explain the noose he felt tightening on his neck, “maybe you’re trying to make us let you run and maybe you’re sincere about this. Truth is we can’t trust you. Hell, I would be foolish enough to do so but this could ruin all of our lives and I’m still hoping for a better solution here.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard you talking about a private investigator,” Harry actually laughed; head thrown back and everything.

“Oh great, you can also just spill your beans now,” Niall joked.

“Why would I do that?” There was a definite spark in Harry’s eyes, Louis tried to ignore it but it was hard not to think that they all could have been friends in another life. They could have met at a concert, maybe even in the bathroom. They could have formed a band. They could have gotten band tattoos and travelled the world together. Someone please stop Louis’ brain.

“So we don’t kill you,” Louis raised his eyebrows challenging. He was definitely not flirting.

“Ah right. Sorry, must have slipped my mind,” Harry winked, he fucking winked.

Niall looked from Harry to Louis and back, confused, and then cackled, “Oh my god. You two aren’t seriously flirting right now, are you?”

“No Niall, I just threatened him, don’t think that qualifies as flirting, does it?” Louis may or not be blushing. Sue him if he did.

“Some people have weird kinks, not like I didn’t catch you amf urf laff…” Niall muffled through Louis’ hand that rushed forward to clutch to his mouth. As if this situation wasn’t awkward enough, thank you Niall.

“Don’t talk about this in front of the child!” he shrieked fakely.

Bite him if Harry pouted at that. “Did I just mum me?”

“Who are you?” Louis couldn’t believe he was real, “also I prefer it if you called me daddy.” Whoops, he really didn’t mean to say that. The shade of Harry’s cheek darkened within seconds, “eh, I’m kidding, yeah?” Louis rushed to say - someone please buy him a mind-to-mouth-filter.

“Don’t worry about it, I actually kind of wish my father could see this, like totally taken out of context, he would disown me right away. Well, not that he’s planning on doing so anyways…” Harry shook his head sadly.

 

Turns out, Harry had his own bone to pick with his father. It was odd, Louis thought, there they were chatting away in a little cottage just outside the city and if someone would have taped them, most of the conversation could have passed as friendly chatter. Well, Louis must admit that he was being a little too friendly to be just friendly sometimes. Niall kept glancing at him and once Louis caught him, he just cackled away. Truth is, no one really let the information sink in that Harry was actually tied to the chair and held captive. So it only seemed natural when Harry opened up to them and told them that he himself also had wanted to take advantage of the absence of his father and get his things since his father threw him out only a couple of weeks ago. “I thought it was time to tell him about me, I really had hoped that he would have been at least a little more accepting of me being gay, but in the end I’m not really surprised he called me worthless and ungrateful,” he said and well, Louis had the strong urge to cuddle him and maybe run his fingers through his fluffy curls. Before he could deepen that thought and consequently worry about his weird desire to just touch Harry, Zayn and Liam practically fell through the door, harshly arguing.

“No Zayn, you are not gonna call Danny! Are you crazy?” Liam yelled.

“He’s one of my best mates, we’re supposed to meet him and Ant for brunch tomorrow - come on Liam, he’s gonna know something’s up when we don’t go.” Zayn slammed the door.

“Yeah, just cancel goddammit but don’t say a word about this, what is wrong with you?” Liam clenched his fists.

“You really think he’s gonna rat us out, or what? Well thank you for your trust in my confidence in my friends.” Zayn furiously threw his hands up in the air.

“I just- whatever. Do what you want, if we end up in jail, you can call Danny to get you out.” And with that the door slammed shut and Liam was out again.

Zayn dumped the groceries on the kitchen table and sighed. What a mess.

 

After that the panic spread. Liam had been out for hours before returning to the cottage and apologizing simultaneously with Zayn who had been wildly sketching and brainstorming on some tissues. He had just texted Danny that they couldn’t make it and then angrily shut his phone off. Meanwhile Niall had first been laughing too much and too loudly and then moved onto silently nibbling on some crackers. Louis, then again, was nervously pacing around the cottage until Zayn snapped at him, so instead he just tried to avoid any kind of eye contact with Harry. They did untie him but locked the door from the inside and Zayn stuck the key down his shoe. Which in case of a fire was probably a horrible idea. Everything was a horrible idea now though.

It was going to be a rough first night. Liam and Zayn claimed the bed whereas Louis and Niall took the floor and Harry got the couch. “I’m not gonna rat you out. I swear,” he whispered when Niall gave him a blanket, “I’m gonna take the blame. I promise.” But Niall just shook his head, “Sorry, Harry. We can’t let you run, not now.” He bit his lip and then added, “Goodnight.”

 

2

 

Louis tossed and turned all night. He just couldn’t sleep. His mind was driving him nuts. Trying to get his mind off of over thinking, he let his eyes roam through the cottage. Everyone else was seemingly soundly asleep; at least if Niall’s snoring was anything to go by. The moon shone softly through the space between the curtains. This was actually quite a nice place, Louis thought and made a note to himself to ask Liam why they haven’t done any lads weekends here yet. His eyes landed on Harry whose curls splayed out all over the tiny pillow, artfully so. Louis hardly ever had experienced such an immediate attraction to anyone. But here he was, somewhat crushing on the boy he kidnapped. They were just lightly flirting but Louis felt like a psychopath, thinking of making Harry fall in love with him so that he wouldn’t kiss and tell when they let him run. But that was not even what he really wanted, he just wanted to feel his skin under his fingertips, run them down his neck and maybe play a little with his hair. Harry was just really lovely and what a mess that they must meet like this.

As if he could feel Louis’ eyes on him, Harry now slowly blinked awake, staring right back at him. “You awake?” Louis whispered although he could clearly see that he was. His curly head almost immediately rose.

“Yeah, are you?” Harry’s voice was hoarse. Louis found it terribly arousing.

“Obviously. Although Luke once told me that I do talk in my sleep.” Louis always had perfected his way of blurting out whatever he was thinking.

“Who’s Luke?” Harry whispered. But it didn’t really sound curious, just sleepy. How was this not awkward as hell? Louis shuffled deeper into his sleeping bag, turning onto his side so that he was now facing the sofa. “My ex,” he simply said then.

“Oh. My ex says that I drool. So you should probably wash this pillow like- afterwards.”

There it was – afterwards. After what exactly? There was a heavy silence, Harry must have noticed it too. “Goodnight, Louis.”

“G’night,” he mumbled back but he was still hours away from actually falling asleep.

 

+

 

There was no foolproof plan. There was none the next morning and there was none when they decided to cook some spaghetti in the afternoon. “The thing about foolproof,” Zayn actually signed inverted commas, “is that there is no such thing when you have been a fool to get into this situation in the first place.”

“One round of applause for your wisdom, Malik the Ninja,” Louis bit down sarcastically. It was only he and Zayn sitting outside on a rock, trying to come up with some sort of get out. The sun was shining, it almost felt like spring already and there was a distinctive smell of slurry.

“Alright, Louis,” Zayn rolled his eyes. “So what’s your plan? Flirt your way into his pants and make him fall in love with you?” Okay, wow.

“No! What is wrong with you? I’m not some psycho okay? You hit him, I didn’t agree to any of this!” Louis might be reacting a little hysterically.

“We,” Zayn emphasised, “We broke into that stupid house for you in the first place. Don’t put this all on me. And what are you doing then with Harry?”

Louis couldn’t answer that. Not like – he didn’t want to, he was just not able to. He had no fucking clue what he was doing.

“Honestly, I don’t know what his deal is,” Zayn continued, searching his denim jacket for a lighter. “He seems sweet and all but you should not forget about this whole mess we’re in. Also, who knows if he’s not just using you?”

Louis just shrugged. He didn’t know. Since this morning there had been light chatter, too many glances and too much shirtless Harry when he asked to wash himself a little. Louis was in deep shit. He took the cigarette Zayn was offering with a small grateful smile.

 

“How about we drive back and get an ear out what is being reported about Harry’s missing and the state of the villa? The phone reception here is so horrible, nothing will load,” Liam suggested when he fished his last spaghetti out of his bowl. They must be lunatics to discuss this stuff in front of Harry.

“Mh sounds good to me,” Zayn slurps, throwing Louis a glance, “You alright here with Niall?” “Of course, dad,” Louis batted his eyelashes. They were never two of not taking the piss out of each other. So after they did the dishes, Liam and Zayn headed out, driving back into town with the van. They were only out a few minutes before Niall jumped up and declared that this was “unhealthily boring”. Louis didn’t really understand how kidnapping someone could be labelled “boring” but “unhealthy” sounded about right. “So, I’m just gonna go explore a little. Be back in a bit!” Niall shouted and then he was already gone. Great. Alone with Harry. In an alternative universe Louis would have showered Niall in kisses for that move but this was just terrible. And terribly awkward too.

 

There was too much silence and Louis couldn’t focus on this crossword from 2001 because Harry just sat there on the sofa, bluntly staring at him like Louis wouldn’t notice.

“A French artist with 7 letters, the third one is a Z,” Louis looked up, looking a now bewildered Harry right into the eye.

“Uh, Cézanne maybe?” he distractedly ruffled through his hair.

“Your daddy got a painting over his bed or what?” Louis sometimes hated himself but yet he couldn’t help himself. Especially not when Harry just looked so soft and wide-eyed that he could hardly stand to be on the other side of the room right now. So being snarky it was.

“Actually he’s got a Feininger. Not that it is any less expensive, I think.”

CEZANNE Louis spelled into the little boxes and decided to just nod. Not that he had a clue who the fuck Feiniger or whatever was.

“What are you studying, Louis? Like I mean at uni?” Harry asked curiously.

“Wanna be a drama teacher,” he mumbled. And tried to figure out what 6 letter-long animal there was beginning with a C. He had absolute no clue and Harry was really not helping because he was still staring. He did this laser frog eye thing – like scrunched up nose, dimples full on and eyes squished together and yet so bright. It was oddly adorable.

“Oh that’s cool. I actually dropped out last month. Studying law wasn’t really my dream after all. And now I’m just not gonna be daddy’s good boy any longer. Fuck that!”

“Yeah fuck that,” Louis agreed and gave up on the animal with C. He also gave up on pretending and looked Harry straight in the eyes as he stood up. They were just so green and this was no new information to Louis but it still distracted him from grabbing his mug from the table so that he almost pushed it over the edge.

“Fuck!” His head snapped to his tea he just managed to save and then immediately turned back towards Harry. “Are we just gonna ignore this, or?” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. When Harry just continued to look at him – Jesus, with his mouth slightly opened and how did Louis not concentrate on his lips before? So full, so full of colour and so kissable, suckable, peckable. “What?” Harry croaked out when Louis finally reached the sofa and sat down next to him. Too close. Too close for his own good. “You know,” Louis gestured wildly, “this tension – or whatever.”

Reflecting back Louis would not be able to explain how or why or even when but the next moment he knew Harry’s lips were pressed onto his. It was like an out-of-body experience. There was the lust burning in his chest when Harry’s soft bad yet chapped lips pressed onto his. A hand wrapped around the back of his neck, a thumb played with the hair there, a tongue ran along his bottom lip. Louis couldn’t help but groan, letting Harry’s tongue slip past his lips, eagerly sucking it into his mouth.

Yesyesyes his mind shouted and he lunged forward to straddle Harry’s legs, frantically snogging and rocking down on Harry’s laps because moremoremore. He slid his hand into Harry’s curls and tugged. The moan escaping Harry’s lips was obscene. Louis wished he could have recorded it and had it as his ringtone for incoming text messages. That would be incredibly hot and disturbing at the same time. Then again he might not want to risk popping a boner in public – or at least not all the time.

Harry was kissing like his life depended on it, seeing what Zayn said early that might as well just had been his intention. But before Louis could even think about that, Harry’s lips left his mouth just as his long fingers found his waist, slowly wandering under his t-shirt. Rubbing circles into Louis’ skin Harry next attached his mouth onto Louis’ neck and started sucking. “Oh god,” Louis sighed. And the never ending moremoremore.

“Go on,” he nibbled at Harry’s ear, some springy bits of his hair tickling his nose. That’s all that Harry needed to yank Louis’ shirt over his head and start fumbling with his jeans. “God, these are really tight,” he said breathlessly. “Not that yours are any better, Styles,” Louis let his index slip into the back of Harry’s jeans, teasingly running it over his soft skin just above his cheeks, his heart beating loudly in chest. “God, you’re so frustrating!” But Louis just giggled and helped Harry to get him out of his jeans, dropping them on the floor before returning his own task at hands and popping the button of Harry’s jeans.

Once they were both stripped down to their underwear Louis had trouble breathing. Harry was beautiful. A toned chest with some swallows tattooed right under his collarbones and a gigantic moth just under his nipples in between two tiny extra nipples. Louis ran his finger over the smooth inked skin before dipping down and kissing Harry’s chest. Kissing and licking lower and lower Louis had trouble to keep at his initiated pace the nearer he got to the bulge in Harry’s pants. He swallowed hard before he finally reached some dark hair poking out of the Calvin Klein’s Harry was wearing. Happyhappyhappytrails. Someone should dedicate as song, write a poem and declare a holiday for happy trails.

“Come on, Louis please!” Harry moaned, twitching under Louis’ hand where he was holding him down by his hips. “Alright, be a little patient, yeah?” He sucked on his skin just to leave it a little red before it faded only seconds later. Finally he reached for the waistband and slipped it down quickly, taking in the sight Harry offered him.

Harry was big, but no surprise there. He was also already leaking a little pre-cum that Louis could not help but eagerly lick away. The little sigh Harry gave at that made him wish he had taken off his underwear too by now. Slowly he licked his way up before lightly sucking on the head, running his tongue over it in circles before taking him in as much as he could. “Fuck!” Louis had to hold Harry down with his second hand, grabbing at his hips, his lovely love handles, trying to not make him move so much. He shut his eyes close and dared to go a little further before tears started filling his lashes, dropping onto Harry’s abdomen.

Catching for air, Louis ran his tongue along the slit again and again before going back to the head. By then Harry was just panting “Louis Louis Louis” and managed just in time to tuck at Louis’ hair to warn him, before he came all over his stomach, some splashes catching onto Louis’ chin. “Oh god, you’re fantastic!” Harry let his head fall back in exhaustion. “Well thank you, Harold,” Louis said smugly, crawling onto Harry’s lap not caring that he would get come all over him. “You do know that that’s not my name, do you?” Harry frowned and Louis couldn’t really tell if he was genuinely offended. “Is it not?” Louis was a little disappointed, pouting slightly, “Thought you were some posh Harold Eduard Alfonso or something.”

“Sorry to disappoint but if I remember correctly you actually did look on my ID so there should be no surprise really,” Harry arched an eyebrow challengingly. Louis laughed, “Well, I guess not.” He pecked Harry’s lips slightly. “But if it helps,” Harry murmured, “I could give you a dick massage à la Harold.” Louis cackled, “You’re ridiculous. But alright. Go on then!” Harry’s hand was in his pants and on his dick before he could even finish the sentence. It didn’t need much and Louis was coming all over Harry’s beautifully long, thin fingers. “I’d definitely recommend the dick massage à la Harold,” was the last thing he mumbled before falling asleep with Harry’s back pressed to his chest.

 

+

 

Zayn had been right. When Louis woke up Harry was gone. Niall was there but Harry was just – just gone.

“What the fuck happened?”

Louis had a hard time processing this.

Harry.

Harry was gone.

Harry had given him a handjob, waited for him to fall asleep and then ran away.

What a fool he had been.

Louis actually wanted to smack himself. So he did. And so did Niall.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

Louis groaned. This was not only terrible news but also hurt. It felt a lot like betrayal.

“Fuck! Louis, did you sleep with him? And now he’s gone? What the hell?”

Louis groaned. This must be a new low for him.

“What are you doing there, sitting around? We gotta find him or we all gonna end up in jail, you horny bastard!”

Louis groaned. Zayn had been right and so was Niall now. Someone should just ship him off to Antarctica or something.

 

“So what do we do? You go left and I go right?” Niall nodded, “Yeah, he had to walk. His phone is still in the van with Liam and Zayn and unless he can grow wings…”

“Alright, Nialler. No time for chatting. Keep me updated, okay?” So there they were, chasing after their lost kidnap victim slash one-night/day(?)-stand slash honest to god still so adorable being Harry Styles.

It only took ten minutes for Louis until he reached a small village. It only seemed like a dozen of houses randomly assorted, no phone box, no post office, no bus station. He asked a man who cut down the bushes in his front yard whether he had seen a lanky boy with curly brown hair but he just shook his head but said that there was a pub just a few minutes further down the road. So Louis ran. It was possible that Harry rang the doorbell on some random house here and asked to hide him and then called the police. But he could not just knock on every door here, could he?

So Louis ran on further down the road. What if Harry really was there? What should he even say to make him come with him? Besides, Louis was mostly mad at him for using him, the running away part was nothing he really could blame him for, was it?

Louis damned himself for not keeping in touch with his old footie friends when he was running out of breath just two minutes into running. That’s what he got from having to work all week and then sleeping through all Sundays. But then finally there was a sign saying “The Old Wanderer” above the door of a small cabin and now it made sense that there was this really quite adorable pub in the middle of nowhere. Just outside there was a big map, marking all the different hiking tracks and showing directions to the nearest bed & breakfast. There was light inside and the sign on the door was flipped to show off the “OPEN” side. Louis took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

And there he was already. Sitting at the bar with his back towards the door, nursing on a glass of water and texting. Oh shit. Before the door even fell shut behind Louis, Harry’s head suddenly snapped around and took in Louis’ presence. Faintly, he heard the host saying “Good afternoon!” and Harry was just staring at him. His eyes were so cold, nothing at all like only about an hour ago. But it didn’t slip pass Louis that Harry tried very hard to look determined when he stood up from his barstool and steered towards him. Louis was panicking. So he just rushed forward and pushed Harry away as soon as he was only a few feet between them. He just pushed.

“YOU FUCKING USED ME!”

It hurt. Was this all just a game to Harry? Getting your cock sucked and then calling the police as a thank you. Louis laughed bitterly when Harry crashed against a table. Unsteady he just managed to hold onto the table whereas a chair tipped over and rattled down on the tiled floor.

“Like you’re on to talk!” Harry pushed himself up; he actually looked a little bit intimidating now, anger burning in his eyes.

“It was an accident and you fucking know it! You purposely did this to me!” Louis yelled.

Harry already moved to counter that but the host was faster, grabbing both Louis and Harry by their jumper collars, “Would you mind taking this outside? I don’t exactly have many costumers and I don’t really appreciate losing the few I have.” And with that he practically pushed them out the door.

As soon as they were outside, Louis reached for his phone in order to call Niall but Harry just snapped it away from him, “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not calling anyone. We’re gonna talk about this and decide what to do afterwards.” “Like you didn’t text someone when I walked in. Someone’s gonna turn up to pick you up here any minute and I should just sit here and wait for the police to fucking arrest me? Give it back! GIVE IT BACK!” Louis snapped back and tried to reach for the phone but Harry was too bloody tall, holding it over his head, yeah almost grinning smugly, “You’re not getting it before we talk and come on, as if I called the police? I said it before and I still mean it, I’m not gonna rat you out.” As if he really was supposed to believe that. Louis snorted but couldn’t miss the earnest look Harry was giving him. “I’m really not,” Harry almost whispered, “I actually like you and don’t look so shocked now, Louis. I’m gonna take the fall for this. I actually want to. You know my father believes it was me anyways and I probably don’t even have to say anything. I dunno.” Harry looked down at his shoes, shuffling them a little and kicking a pebble onto the road. Louis was startled. “Wh-what?” he stuttered, Harry sounded too genuine to be lying about this. If he indeed was, he should try a career in confusing lying detectors or something. “Why did you run away then?” Louis whispered. “Apart from being captive and as nice as it was, Louis. But I do have stuff I need to do. I’m on my own now, I need to go to work to be able to pay my eventual rent when I find a flat, I need to figure out what to do with my life now that I don’t go to school anymore. I was finally free, Louis. You sound a little crazy asking me that, to be honest,” Harry played with the ring on his middle finger. And yeah, that was true. Louis sounded mad. But he was also hurt, the thought of Harry using him eating away at him. Tiny little stabs into his heart where he thought they shared at least something.

“So you let me blow you and gave me a hand job and waited ‘till I passed out?” his voice was so small, he didn’t even dare to look Harry into the eyes anymore. He was too afraid what he would see. Laughter, smugness or even guilt. But even if Louis didn’t really look at him, he felt that his body stiffened. “I’m sorry Louis,” he just murmured in the end. And with that the sting let loose in Louis’ chest. “Yeah me too. This is such a mess.”

 

3

 

It has been two weeks and still no police had turned up in front of Liam’s and Zayn’s (and Louis’) door. Louis almost felt like celebrating. Not that he didn’t trust Harry, he actually kind of really did. But what if he accidentally slipped up or the friend who picked him up that day at the pub, managed to get the whole story out of Harry? Louis had been running crazy, working more than ever, eager to pay Richard Styles back by the end of next summer. He just needed to get rid of this… - this everything.

But two weeks it was now and as Zayn put it, “the worst is probably over”. They didn’t dare to go back to the villa and no one actually knew where Harry was until today. Niall immediately dropped the bomb – so dramatic – when he came by with some McDonalds for the United game they were about to watch. “I saw Harry today,” he said breathlessly from running up all of the 4 floors, “Actually chatted to him a bit. Said that he was kipping with his friend Jonny or something.” “Aaaand?” ‘Yeah and what else, did he say something about us or his father?’ Louis wanted to add to Zayn’s very specific question. “And well, that Richie Rich came by his friend’s flat to drop off all of his things and apparently told him to never dare to come back. He didn’t even have to say something, his dad just assumed. How horrible is that?” Niall grabbed the chips and ripped a pack of ketchup open, “But he seemed alright, Louis. He’s fine.” Louis just smiled forcefully, since when could Niall read him like an open book? Yes, Louis had been mostly worried about getting arrested but it was no easy task to just forget about Harry. About what happened in the cottage. About them. Liam already told him last Sunday that he had to forget about him, that he had no actual choice but doing so and Louis knew that. But if this silence wasn’t driving him as mad as being stuck at the cottage, then he needed someone to define “mad” for him.

It might have been a stupid thing to do but Louis was indeed madder than mad and madness should be his new middle name. 9 out of 10 at least would agree that finding out where this Jonny person lived was on some new level shit mad. Actually writing the letter didn’t really feel mad at all. It felt hypothetical – But as soon as said letter was in the mailbox, Louis ran and ran until even the lovely old lady from downstairs thought that he must be mad running up those stairs like the police or even worse the mafia was at his heels.

 

 

> _Dear Harry,_
> 
> _I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo, What the hell am I doing here?_
> 
> _Yeah, I’m lamely quoting Radiohead because I  wanna collect some bonus points before you realize that I’m indeed bat shit crazy. But I’m not really sure if you actually like Radiohead? What music do you like, Harry? I know that you like the Stones, but what else?_
> 
> _Eh, so I tried to smooth into this but clearly I’m failing, so forgive me. Actually, don’t. Don’t forgive. Because there is too much I want you to forgive me for and if this is another one on the pile, I’m afraid it’ll always be too big to start forgiving me in the first place. And that’s why I’m writing you this letter. Since I’m no wizard and I actually can’t just make you forget or turn back time (that would come in really handy right now), all I really want is to formally apologize. Can I apologize to you?_
> 
> _I’m no big chef, but I do know how to make some pasta so if you want to come around on Sunday, let’s say 6 o’clock? I don’t blame you if you don’t but I hope that you do._
> 
> _Louis_
> 
> _P.S. If you don’t come, I’ll accept that. So at least take this: I’m sorry. More sorry than I’ve been with myself when I lost my flat and more sorry than I’ve ever been towards Zayn and Liam since invading their love nest. I’m truly sorry._

 

The first thing Harry said on Sunday was really nothing what Louis expected at all. “Hi Tommo!” It baffled Louis even more than the fact that it was actually Harry who turned up on the doormat, waiting for Louis to let him in. “Uh…hi Harry?” Louis stammered. “Did you not expect me?” Harry was frowning, “Did Zayn put that letter in the mailbox?” “What, no! Come in, come in!” Louis rushed to say, letting Harry slip past him.

When Harry had kicked his shoes off and wandered a bit around the flat he noted: “So you wanted to apologize but the others are not actually here?” Louis came out of the kitchen: “Well, yes. Technically they don’t know about this, to be honest. Liam and Zayn are at Zayn’s parents’ house for dinner tonight. They think it’s better to cut ties and never speak or hear of it again.” “So why don’t you?” Louis almost snorted and caught Harry’s eyes, “They did not sleep with you, did they? Also I’m not sure they trust you to not tell the truth yet.”

“That’s reasonable I guess.” With an afterthought Harry added, “And still, I guess I was almost glad when I found your letter.” Okay real talk now apparently.

“You were?” Louis felt so oddly calm.

“Yeah, I mean I’m pretty sure I did not only sleep with you to run away, Louis. Although I’m still sorry for doing it at least partially because of that,” Harry looked down at his knuckles.

“This is terrible. You’re actually apologizing to me before I have a chance to spell SORRY with these spaghetti,” Louis rolled his eyes and put said spaghetti down on the table, “Also Harry, I understand and yes, it hurt but you were hurting, too. And we really shouldn’t have taken you with us to that cottage; that was just horrible. Even there we should have let you go and not be so damn selfish. It might be easy to say these things afterwards when it seems to be done and over with and it probably is. But I don’t want it to mean any less. I’m truly sorry, Harry. For both, being a horrible person and being a terrible criminal-” Harry gnawed at his lower lip, “You’re kind of a very terrible criminal. Although I must admit that the few sparks of your bad boy persona are totally hot, Tommo. That’s your street name, isn’t it?” Louis choked. Who was he kidding, he lost this game weeks ago. Harry Styles was too much. “All is fair in love and war,” he winked and didn’t even himself know where that came from. “Is it more love or more war, though?” Harry asked cheekily, finally sitting down at the table. “It’s more like the Hunger Games, you know?” Louis leant forward as if he was telling Harry a secret, “A lot of war, a pinch of love and a whole lot of starving – Speaking of: Tada! Dig in! Spaghetti Carbonara. My best dish!”

 

 

Epilogue

 

Louis knew that it took more than some sticky Spaghetti and an apology for Harry to forgive him. Or maybe Harry even did forgive him, it sure seemed like it when he invited him for the third night of the week to come over and play some FIFA and listen to some music. Because like Louis predicted, Harry was a massive music geek. Hipster indie meets mainstream meets so-old-your-mum-would-dance-in-the-kitchen. It was adorable and only one of the things Louis loved about him. It surely baffled all the other boys that they just kind of hit it off with just being friends and it was only ever once every couple of hours that Louis thought that it was weird that he was actually there with Harry, the kid they kidnapped.

It was another Sunday when it happened. It had been a month since the Spaghetti Carbonara night – not that it was actually the only, it was just the first of many. There was no knock on the bathroom door, it just bursted open and there he was. Armed with a black scarf, rushing to him and pressing him against the wall. Louis couldn’t breathe when Harry’s chest pressed against his and ordered him harshly to “Hold still, you annoyance!” His heart was beating too fast and he couldn’t fathom any clear thoughts. What was happening? Louis didn’t miss the glances Harry sometimes threw at him and he certainly never had enough discipline to not look at Harry’s curly locks, his dimpled smile and his lovely toned chest. “Are you kidnapping me, Harold?” It was all in good fun, yeah? “Shut up! I’m not joking, Louis,” Harry muttered sternly. “Is today April the 1st?” Louis just giggled. “Why can’t you take this seriously?” Harry sighed exasperatedly. Oh, and now there were cuffs and Louis shouldn’t be so turned on, “Okay, Styles. Tell me where we are going.” “No taking orders today, you’re my hostage, remember?” Harry just breathed into his ear before harshly tugging him at his hand.

The blindfold was so tight Louis couldn’t make out a thing when Harry led him down the stairwell, helping him climb into some car. “Since when do you have a car?” Louis frowned. “Stole it. It’s not clever, kidnapping someone with the car you can be linked to. Didn’t you know that? - Ah right, you didn’t!” Louis couldn’t help but laugh and he may have heard Harry faintly chuckling too.

They drove for about half an hour. Louis was convinced he had grown blind by then. “Take it off, Harry. I’m blind!” he screeched as soon as they stopped, “Why are you doing this to me?” He heard Harry rustle and then he finally took off the blindfold and – oh. Louis would never get used to those eyes, it always was like falling down the rabbit hole and waking up in Wonderland.

“I thought it would be more authentic to forgive you, if you experienced the same things as I did,” Harry admitted straight up with a purposeful look in his eyes. “You forgive me?” Louis did not dare to breathe. He clearly must be imagining all of this.

“Hm,” Harry scratched his chin where some lost hairs tried to convince him that Harry actually did need to shave once every few weeks. “Let’s see at the end of this date, yeah?”

“A date?” Louis’ eyes widened. “Yeah, a date,” Harry grinned, “Thought I’d be so kind and introduce you to my liking of role plays, you know?” Louis actually almost slapped him at that. “Oh my god!”

To be fair, Harry kidnapping Louis was nothing like the original kidnapping. They spent all day on a field, laying in the sun until Harry got sunburnt and then spread out the picnic Harry had put into the booth of Jonny’s car. When the sun was close to disappearing behind the treetops Louis asked: “Do I have to seduce you now?” They were only laying inches apart and Louis could feel Harry’s breath on his cheek. “Not sure I would let you go afterwards, though.” Harry let his hand rise from the picnic blanket and slowly moved it towards Louis’ hips. Louis just gave him a small reassuring smile before letting Harry drag him towards him until their chest lined up, lightly touching in all the right places. “I’m not sure if I put out on the first date, anyways.” And then Louis just kissed him and probably did a somersault down the rabbit hole.

 

And maybe on the car ride back into town and when Harry kissed him goodnight, Louis tried to think of an alternative story they could tell their children on how they met. Louis blamed it on the wine and Harry’s text he just received once he had run up all the stairs to Liam’s and Zayn’s flat.

 

> _btw i have a cop costume. some day i’ll finally arrest that bad boy who stole me ♥_

 

_  
_ **The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any grammar, spelling and whatever mistakes. Unfortunately my two betas didn't manage to get through the whole thing but I still want to thank Louise at this point for doing as much as she could. Thank you love!!
> 
> And thank YOU for reading
> 
> Leave some comments, kudos or find me on [tumblr](http://teapotpourri.tumblr.com) :) xx


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